Captive-in-Chief (33 page)

After their brief and tearful reunion, Joe cleared the rest of the house. There were no other captives or targets in the house, only Clara, who had been looked after like the asset she was. There weren’t many people in the world that would allow you to control the most powerful man on Earth.

He introduced Clara to Sandy and they walked back to the car. Unsurprisingly, Clara was quiet. It had been a violent and bloody end to her captivity and not something she was likely to forget or get over soon. He kept his arm around her as they walked. It was amazing how much of the ten year old he could still see in her as a woman.

“I can’t believe you remember me,” said Joe.

“Are you kidding! I remember every time you had leave, you’d come visit, right up until I was about eleven and met Clay for the first time. You never came back after that,” she said sadly.

“Yeah, life didn’t really pan out the way I expected.”

“Nor for me,” she said quietly.

“You’re safe now.”

“Joe, please don’t take this the wrong way, but my father’s the president. You’re one guy! What the—”

“It’s complicated,” Joe interrupted. He could see the shock was wearing off and the anger was building.

“I understand I’m an embarrassment. I understand he can’t publicly claim me, but I was kidnapped, being threatened, and he sends one—please don’t take this the wrong way—old guy and his dog! He’s the most powerful man on Earth, commander of the most powerful military in history, and he sends a guy and his dog?!”

“No offense taken. Although I can’t argue with you, you don’t know the full picture. Once you do, you’ll understand.”

“God, I can’t wait to see my husband, he must be out of his mind with worry.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Joe said sheepishly. “As I say, there’s a lot you need to hear.”

“He’s not with you?”

“No, he’s still in New York,” he said, not technically lying, unless the body had been moved from the New York morgue, which he doubted. “Nobody knows I’m here. Look, it’s a long story,” he said as they neared the car.

He’d have to keep Amy’s gag in place, Clara couldn’t hear her husband was dead from her. That was something that would need to be managed, and carefully. There was no doubt the full trauma of her experience had yet to hit her.

“Before we get in the car, I need to let you know there’s a woman tied up in the back. She’s part of the group that’s blackmailing your father. She led us here.”

“Us?”

“There’s a reporter, Daryl, he was going to print a story that would expose part of their plan. They killed his partner by mistake and he’s on the run from them.”

“So you’re a one man army doing the president’s dirty work?”

“Effectively, yeah.” Joe shrugged. “You know what, on second thought…” he said on reaching the car door and seeing Amy’s face, “…she can ride in the trunk. I’d rather not see her treasonous face.”

Or give her the chance to upset Clara,
he thought to himself. He stuffed a clearly reluctant Amy unceremoniously into the trunk, slamming the lid.

“Clara, Daryl,” Joe said, introducing them, “Daryl, Clara.”

“God, I’m so sorry for your loss, I know exactly how you feel!” Daryl said.

Clara’s head spun to Joe; he couldn’t look her in the eye. He looked at Sandy, who jumped into the car, not wanting any part of that conversation.

Joe handed an address to Daryl. He still was barely speaking to him. Clara was inconsolable. Joe considered telling her the truth but no matter how he broke it to her, she’d be riding in the car with the man that killed her husband. Her level of trust for Joe would be nowhere near what it was for her scumbag husband, certainly not over the next hour in the car. He’d tell her, just not yet.

“Where’s this?” Daryl asked.

“I have no idea, it’s an address I was given to go to once I got Clara,” he snapped.

Daryl input it into his smart phone and a computerized voice told them to make a U-turn.

“Who was that?” asked Joe.

“Seriously, man? Where’ve you been?”

“What?”

“It’s a GPS app!”

Joe didn’t even want to start with how little what Daryl had said meant to him. He remained silent and went with the occasional voice breaking the silence, a welcome intrusion to Clara’s sobs. Sandy had the right idea. She caught some sleep while she could. Joe closed his eyes. The second he did, Clara spoke.

“Okay, tell me what’s been happening,” she said, wiping her eyes.

“What do you know since your kidnapping?”

“Nothing. They kept me in a room with a DVD player and about a hundred movies. No TV.”

“Shit, you’ve missed a lot.”

Clara sat in silence while Daryl and Joe brought her up to date with the events that had rocked and reshaped their nation.

“And my dad’s agreed with all these laws and policies?”

“It was that or you died.”

“And he can’t talk to anyone?”

“Anyone he does talk to is killed. Even questioning something he had supposedly done got three people killed.”

“So they must have people everywhere.”

“We know a few names, but we’ve spoken to pawns and foot soldiers, who don’t know half of what is going on. The conspiracy they’re part of is far bigger than they know. Your dad doesn’t know who he can or can’t trust. The only way is to tell them something and if they don’t die, they probably can’t be trusted, the conspirators had you as a failsafe. With you in their hands, he was powerless. He wasn’t going to go around challenging people’s trust when their lives were at risk. Particularly those close to him. It wasn’t whether they could be trusted, it was who they then told.”

“My God. How did they manage this?”

“While I don’t have the full picture, from what your dad has conveyed in the few messages we’ve relayed to one another, it’s been planned for years. And certainly from what we got out of Amy we know that’s true. She’s been in her post since your father became president.”

“Everything’s been done so quickly. I mean, surely they’d have been better taking their time.”

“Shock and awe, a classic military tactic. Hit hard and fast. By the time people stop to think what just happened, it’s already a done deal. The American people are still in shock, they see the government taking decisive action in the face of mounting adversity. One day after another, something else, something bigger to distract them from what was happening as a result of the previous day’s events.”

“What if my father hadn’t nominated a vice president?”

“He’d likely be dead and the Baldwins would be in power. One week. They planned to transform America in only one week and take complete control. As maniacal as it sounds, they nearly succeeded, and who’s to say we’ll be able to stop them? However, the longer we can hang on, the more the American people will understand what’s happening and I’m sure will fight back.”

“But why’d they kill my husband? It doesn’t make sense.”

“Probably because he knew about Clay.”

“He didn’t.”

“He…” Joe caught himself but Clara was on him like a hawk, her legal training picking up on his mistake.

“You’ve lied twice now. You said he was in New York and now you’re arguing he knew something he didn’t, yet you’ve never met him?”

“I didn’t lie, he is in New York.”

“We’re here,” announced Daryl, trying to help Joe, even though his smart phone was saying they should stop in half a mile.

“Uncle Joe, I think with everything else I’ve been through—”

“He was a plant, Clara. He was part of the conspiracy. He didn’t love you. He only cared about the hedge fund they gave him,” said Joe.

Clara’s eyes welled up. “He knew about Clay?”

“And a lot more. He was using you, he set you up.”

“He’s part of all of this?” Clara waved her arms in a halfhearted circle, sobbing heavily.

Joe nodded, not wanting to point out she had used the wrong tense when referring to him.

“What did you do?”

“What any good uncle would.”

“What?”

“Threw the son of a bitch off the tallest building I could find.”

“Shit,” Daryl breathed. “You’re hardcore!”

“Not hardcore, Marine Corps,” replied Joe proudly. “We here?”

“Yeah, not entirely sure where ‘here’ is but wherever it is, it’s there.” He pointed to number 231, a small, neat townhouse.

“One day I’ll thank you,” Clara said, climbing out of the car. “That day is not today though, okay?”

Joe nodded, checked his pistol, and strode to the door marked 231. He knocked three times, hard and unmistakable for anyone inside as to the fact that someone was at the door.

A young woman answered. “You’re gonna wake the baby knocking that loud,” she complained.

“I’m sorry, Ma’am, but President Clay Caldwell gave me your address,” said Joe.

She turned away, ironically shouting far louder than Clay had knocked. “Some guy for you, Momma!”

“Who’s looking for Ramona at this hour?” came the response.

Ramona listened for less than a minute before ushering Joe, Daryl, and Clara into her house. She listened intently while they explained what had happened and who Clara was.

“I knew something wasn’t right, I knew it!” she proclaimed many times as they spoke. “So what can I do?”

“We need to get to the president but nobody can know,” Joe replied. “And we need to do it now. Once they discover Clara is gone, who knows what they’ll do?”

“That’s not going to work, there’s no way in to the White House without proper passes, especially at this time of night. I could call Mike, his lead agent, he’s a good guy.”

Joe shook his head. “We know there are a number of Secret Service agents already implicated. We can’t trust anyone. The fact he’s given me your name says a huge amount about you.”

“He better trust Ramona, Ramona’s always had his back!”

“That’s why we’re here.”

“Who are you again?”

“I was an old friend of his,” replied Joe.

“Funny, he never mentioned you. Ever,” she said suspiciously. “Then again, he never mentioned having another daughter. There’s no denying you’re his though. Same eyes and nose.”

“What if…?” asked Daryl, running through a scenario.

“Too risky,” said Joe. “I’m not happy with putting Ramo—”

“Don’t you be worrying about me, I can take care of myself. Sounds like a plan to me,” Ramona said, bulldozing the men. “I’m in!”

Clay sat on the sofa with his children, his arms wrapped around them both. His role as protector didn’t get more basic than that. Anyone coming for them would have to get through him first.

“Just one more, Dad, please?” Jack pleaded.

Clay looked at Tess. She nodded her agreement, so he hit the button and the next episode began to play. Another 22 minutes delay on going to bed. Val was going to kill him but he was savoring every waking moment. He had no idea how much longer he had with his children. He didn’t think many bookies knowing his situation would give him odds on seeing out the weekend.

If Jack wanted another ten episodes, there was no way he’d say no.

“Mr. President, I apologize for the interruption. Ramona is downstairs asking for you,” a Secret service agent said.

He sat bolt upright. “Is everything okay? What’s wrong with her?”

“She seems fine.”

“So send her up then,” he said, relaxing.

“She didn’t want to intrude, she wants to deliver the gifts for Tess and Jack that she mentioned earlier as she’s going on vacation.”

“Presents?” Jack said excitedly.

“Um, okay,” replied Clay. He didn’t have any recollection of Ramona having a vacation, or mentioning gifts.

“So where is she?”

“South Entrance, Mr. President. She’s not wanting to come in.”

“Tell her not to be ridiculous, come in, she’s one of the family.”

The agent disappeared, only to reappear a few moments later. “She’s, err, not dressed for the occasion, Mr. President.”

“What, she naked?”

“No, sir, she’s in her dressing gown and PJs.”

“Okay, I’m coming.” He pulled himself off the sofa. He paused, the bizarreness of the situation suddenly hit him. Nothing like this had ever happened before. She’d never mentioned gifts or a vacation.

“Tess, Jack,” he said, “Ramona’s got gifts for you, are you not going to thank her?”

“Tell her we’re in bed, will you?” Tess yawned. “We’ll thank her later.”

“Front and center now!” he barked, shocking even the agent already standing alert to straighten his back further.

Both children jumped. Their father was the soft touch, Mom was the shouter. Neither had ever experienced their father speaking to them like that previously.

“You’ll get down those stairs and thank Ramona from the bottom of your hearts!”

Clay marched them out of the door and down towards the South Entrance, two floors down.

“POTUS heading down to South Entrance,” the agent called in to the security room. They had been listening in to the conversation in any event. The two agents on duty were uncomfortable at how out of the ordinary the event was. They had three agents on duty loyal to the cause and sent them to check there was nothing untoward about to happen.